Pirate's Prophecy, page 31
The contrary currents subsided as the frigate pulled them out of the maelstrom. Celeste was no longer being pulled sideways, but straight behind the ship. Like a fishing lure … She regretted her analogy immediately as the charybdis surged up from its failed trap after them.
The beast breached like a vengeful sea god, half of its entire bulk clearing the surface. The wave from its impact crashed over them like an avalanche, tumbling them and jerking the rough hemp line again through Celeste’s palms. She gritted her teeth against the pain as blood streamed from between her fingers. Desperate to take some of the strain off her tortured hands, she whipped one leg around the rope and clamped down hard with the other. Unable to see through the froth, she surfaced and looked for Kalli, hoping the gillman fared better. She caught a flashing glimpse of Kalli’s face contorted in determination, and the line she clutched wrapped around her forearms to keep from slipping.
Panicked shouts from the ship heralded the beast’s pursuit. A massive claw smashed into the sea between Celeste and Kalli, missing the naga by mere feet and spinning her like a spiral streamer in the wind. Teeth the size of greatswords gnashed only yards behind her trailing feet. If she let go now, she’d be swallowed whole.
“Haul, damn you! More sail! Hoist more sail!”
Celeste welcomed the sound of Torius’s voice as much as the rhythmic tugs that pulled her up beside the ship. The rope lurched with the turbulent water at the stern, and she thumped hard against the hull, rasping her shoulder on the barnacle-encrusted wood.
Almost there!
Celeste glimpsed a claw scraping down the side of the ship, shearing the entire quarter gallery away as it plunged toward her. She lashed out with a foot to push away from the hull, and the immense limb brushed against her in passing, amid a landslide of shattered glass and ornate woodwork falling into the sea. The charybdis seemed to be tearing the frigate apart around them.
The line pulled her up the side of the ship, and now she could hear clearly.
“More sail!” Torius commanded from above. “Jettison anything not nailed down!”
Crates, barrels, and corpses flew past Celeste, splashing into the sea as she ascended foot by precarious foot up the side. Kalli hung only feet above and forward, blood streaming down her forearms from the rough rope. The din of splintering wood and lashing spray subsided. The quarterdeck still seemed a mile away, but she allowed a flicker of hope that she might actually make it
Then a barely perceptible itch threatened that hope. It quickly progressed into a telltale tingle that she knew all too well.
“No, no, no!” Her transformation spell was expiring. She’d been too busy swimming and calculating to keep track of how long it had been since she last cast the spell. The rope slipped from between her fusing legs, and her grip on the rope weakened as her fingers receded.
Celeste shouted out her spell, picturing a different form in her mind. She no longer needed to swim, but climbing sounded like a great idea, and being small and nimble would make that easier. Sighing with relief as arms and legs reformed, she shrugged her shoulders to center the pack and scrambled the rest of the way up the side of the ship. She grasped Torius’s outstretched hand and shimmied over the rail into his arms.
“Celeste!” Torius pulled her into a crushing embrace, kissing her hard.
Celeste wanted to melt in his arms, but it hardly seemed prudent. She thrust her hands against his chest and pushed away. “The charybdis!”
“The what?” The captain looked at her quizzically, then blinked and stared. “You look like—”
“The sea monster! Kalli said it was a charybdis. Aren’t we still battling it?”
“It’s distracted.” Grogul leaned heavily on the rail and nodded off the stern. “When we started throwin’ over dead Chelish marines, the critter decided to stop for lunch. No accounting for taste.”
In their wake, the charybdis bobbed among the jetsam. Its smaller claws picked through the wreckage, scooping up the bodies and feeding them into the great maw.
Celeste swallowed hard at the grisly sight. “I don’t care what it eats, as long as it’s not trying to eat us!”
“Good to have you back aboard.” Torius reclaimed her attention. “For a while there, I thought I’d lost you.”
“You almost did.” Celeste kissed him hungrily, but laughter from the crew brought her up short.
“Hey!” Snick’s indignant shout broke their clinch. “You can’t be kissin’ the captain lookin’ like that! Couldn’t you pick someone else to mimic? Or at least get dressed?”
“Sorry, Snick. I needed to be smaller so they could haul me aboard more easily, and you were the first person I thought of.” Celeste banished her transformation, resuming her natural form with no small relief. It felt good to have scales again. Her waterlogged pack fell to the deck with a clank, and she cringed. She retrieved her sextant and inspected it for damage.
“You bothered to haul along a bag full of junk with that thing chasing you?” Torius lifted the dripping pack and peered inside.
“You gave me this sextant, Torius!” Celeste glared at him. “Don’t you dare call it junk!”
“I understand, but it’s not worth your life.” He pulled her close again, warm against her damp scales. “I’d buy you a new sextant.”
“Well, at least we’re a happy ship again.” Vreva leaned on the rail, stroking a disheveled but purring Mathias.
“Yeah, and it’s about damned time those two got together,” Grogul muttered.
Celeste didn’t understand the bosun’s comment until she turned to see Kalli and Lacy Jane locked in an amorous embrace, oblivious to anyone else on the quarterdeck. Her surprise was curtailed by the arrival of Thillion, who dropped to the deck from the mizzen ratlines and handed over a bundle of red-and-black cloth.
“I took the liberty of striking the Chelish colors, Captain. We’d better fly something else before our friends arrive.”
“Friends?” Celeste asked. “What friends?”
“Gray Corsairs,” Torius answered. “Vreva’s called them in.”
“Yes, and I’ll breathe easier once they get here. Our hosts are starting to get upset.” Thillion pointed to the foredeck, where a large group of Chelish sailors huddled together, glaring at the heavily armed pirates surrounding them. “But do we have any other colors?”
Torius’s face fell. “I’m afraid they’re all on the bottom of the sea.”
“Wait!” Snick scrabbled through the bag she had brought over from Stargazer and fished out a bundle. Grabbing one end, she let it unfurl. A long black pennant with Celeste’s likeness sewn in silver thread fluttered in the wind. “I thought we might need an extra.”
“Thank you, Snick.” Torius took the pennant and stared down at the cloth for a moment before handing it to Thillion. “Run it up the mizzen halyard. No Chelish captain in their right mind would fly that flag.”
Celeste bit her lip as she watched the pennant soar aloft. She remembered watching the ship she so loved sinking into the void of the deep, and felt a sharp pang of loss. “I miss Stargazer already, Torius. What are we going to do?”
“Do?” The pirate captain smiled at her and ran his fingers through her wet hair, pulling her close. “We’ll do what we’ve always done. Keep sailing, keep fighting, and keep watching the stars.”
“That sounds good to me.” Celeste leaned against her captain, swaying with the motion of this new ship, and taking solace in the warmth of his arm around her.
23
Spoils of War
Good to be back, isn’t it?* Mathias leapt up onto the banister and rubbed against Vreva’s arm.
“It is.” She looked down over the room full of boisterous Chelish naval officers. The scents of smoke, sweat, liquor, and wine filled the air, laughter and the thrum of music loud enough to render quiet conversation challenging. Business as usual. “Calistria help me, but I missed this place.”
*I knew you would.*
Vreva admired the new stage act Kelipri had hired while her boss was out of town. The staccato percussion accentuated the perilous gyrations of the performers juggling burning swords. A gasp rose from the crowd as one of the jugglers feigned a mishap, then laughter as she showed them it was just a trick. Then one of the men blew forth a volatile mixture, igniting it with his flaming blade. Fire billowed into the air.
The officers gasped and applauded. Well, most of them applauded.
Vreva’s practiced eye picked out a few who averted their gazes or hastily downed their drinks. One older lieutenant paled and wiped sweat from his brow with a scarred hand. A burn-scarred hand.
Swallowing hard, Vreva flexed the hand she’d thrust into live coals to burn away ravenous green slime. She recalled the scent of seared flesh in the witch’s cellar, the screams of sailors trapped under burning canvas.
I’m a soldier. This is war. People die. Sometimes innocent people.
*Maybe the fire show’s not such a good idea after all.* Mathias bumped her arm with his head, and she felt a wash of empathy from him. *You okay?*
“I’m fine.” He’d been asking that a lot, and she knew she would be, given time. “Just glad to be home and alive.”
*I’m glad to be off that gods-damned ship!* He licked his paw and flicked his tail. *Promise me you’ll never make me go to sea again.*
“You know I can’t promise you, love, but I’ll do my best.” She scratched him under the chin, and he seemed to accept the compromise.
Truth be told, the overland trip from Augustana had been almost as horrifying as their time at sea. Four days huddled in a farm wagon disguised as a peasant girl, sleeping in straw, shivering every night, and then dodging patrols of border guards, had left her longing for a warm bed. They’d arrived safe and sound in Ostenso two days ago, and already the unpleasant memories were receding. It was amazing what a hot bath, wine, and good food could do. Now she was back at work. Last night she’d arranged a clandestine moonlit walk on the waterfront. Tonight she would listen for any rumors about the disappearance of Fury’s Crown.
*Trouble!* Mathias’s tail twitched, his sharp eyes focused on the club’s front door where Nonny the bouncer spoke to a tall figure in chainmail. The armored woman turned, her surcoat displaying a familiar crest.
“Lothera Cothos?”
*Why would she come back here?*
“I don’t know, but I doubt it’s to see the floor show. I better talk to her.”
*Well, it’s a cinch she’s not here to talk to me!*
Vreva flounced down the stairs, preparing herself for the encounter. Concealed by the cheering crowds, she murmured her thought-reading spell, then, once she had Lothera in sight, whispered another incantation to soothe the woman’s mind.
She greeted Lothera with a smile and a curtsy. “Harbormaster Cothos. What a surprise!”
“I … yes, I suppose it is.” Lothera bowed stiffly, her motions precise, though her red eyes and roiling thoughts betrayed her state of distress. Gone … he’s gone … he can’t be … “I … didn’t know if you had heard the horrible news.”
“News?” Vreva painted on a worried look. “What news?”
The harbormaster’s eyes darted around the room. Damn the navy! If they did their jobs … “Might we have some privacy?”
“Of course. Would a corner table suffice?” Vreva motioned to her head waiter.
“Yes. Yes, that would be fine.” Lothera followed her to the very same table they’d used before. Unclipping her sword, the harbormaster slid into the booth without a word.
The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and two glasses. While he drew the cork and poured, Vreva concentrated on her guest.
Gone … he can’t be gone … Lothera took a hasty gulp of wine before the waiter even finished filling Vreva’s glass. Gods and devils, how can he be gone?
When the waiter had finished and left, Vreva assumed a concerned expression. “I’m afraid to ask what dreadful news you’ve heard, but putting it off won’t make it any easier. Please, tell me what’s happened.”
“It’s Sea Serpent.” Lothera reduced the remaining volume of her glass by half and drew a gasping breath. “I … heard from a merchant captain that the ship was … lost.”
“Lost?” Vreva tinged her voice with panic. “You don’t mean…”
“Lost at sea. Sunk by devil-damned pirates!” Lothera drained her glass and reached for the bottle. Her hand trembled so badly as she poured that wine spilled onto the table. He’s gone …
“Dear gods, no!” Vreva put everything she had into the performance. “But what about the crew? What about Captain Akhiri?”
“Gone.” The harbormaster bolted down her wine, then choked back a sob. “I don’t know what … why … I can’t believe…” Lothera lost her battle with tears and hung her head. “Oh, gods and devils! I … I can’t…”
“You poor thing.” Vreva grasped Lothera’s hands and gripped them tight. She’d already known the news, of course. She’d concocted the rumor herself, and charged Twilp Farfan with circulating it through every waterfront tavern in the city. It had been her parting promise to Torius, freeing him of his relationship with Lothera. Trellis might have arranged some way for him to attain a different ship and resume his role as Abidi Ben Akhiri, but Vreva had nullified that potentiality. She owed the Stargazers that much for the loss of their beloved ship and the deaths of their shipmates. Strangely, she now felt a pang of sympathy for Lothera. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Lothera’s head came up and she sniffed, withdrawing a hand to wipe away her tears. “I thought you’d be … I mean, you knew him longer than I did.”
“I knew him for years, and he was a friend, but I wasn’t in love with him, my dear.”
“I wondered if you ever … if you and he were ever … together.” Lothera reached for the bottle and refilled her glass.
“No, never.” Vreva smiled ruefully, surprised by how well the truth wove into her web of lies. “Not for lack of trying on my part, you understand, but he always turned me down.”
“You? He turned you down?” Lothera stared at her in blatant disbelief. “But you’re … I mean … why?”
“Two reasons. The first was my profession, which he didn’t care for, and later,” Vreva raised her glass in toast, “he said he wouldn’t betray the woman he loved.”
Lothera’s mouth dropped open. “He said that?”
“Yes.” Vreva declined to mention that it was Celeste whom Torius loved and would not betray. This could work out well. Building a friendly relationship with Ostenso’s harbormaster would certainly benefit her mission. She sipped her wine and smiled at Lothera. “I envy you in that regard, you know.”
“You … you shouldn’t.” Lothera drank more wine, her eyes cast down.
“Why not? You’ve had something I’ve never known, and likely never will: the love of a good man.” True also. Vreva had known love, but it had been a woman she’d given her heart to.
Lothera stared at her, new tears wetting her cheeks. “Because if losing someone you love feels like this, you’re better off without it.”
“Don’t say that.” Vreva put her glass down and fixed the harbormaster’s gaze. “Never regret loving someone. Abidi Ben Akhiri enriched your life. Take that and remember him for what you had together.” Even if it was a lie.
“But … it hurts.” Lothera downed her wine once again. “Nothing’s worth hurting like this.”
“Nothing?” Vreva shook her head. “Tell me that in a week or a month. The pain fades, but the memories, the good ones, remain.” True again. I’m just full of truths tonight.
“I … hope so.” Lothera took up the bottle again, and poured the last of the wine into their glasses. “I wanted to thank you. For your advice the last time we spoke, I mean. You were right.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I tried to show Abidi how much I really appreciated him, and…” A sad smile graced Lothera’s mouth, softening her angular features. “He was … our last night together was like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
Well, well, Torius … Vreva smiled. “I’m glad for you, then, and even more envious.” She raised her glass. “To Captain Abidi Ben Akhiri, may our memories of him sustain us, though he has passed from this world.”
“Thank you for that, too.” Lothera drank her wine down and pushed herself up from the table. “I’d better leave before I drink too much and make an even bigger fool of myself.”
“Nonsense.” Vreva stood and extended a hand. “I thank you for coming to tell me. I’d rather hear it from a friend than through the rumor mill.”
“Yes, I…” Lothera shook Vreva’s hand and picked up her sword. Maybe she could be a friend. She’s so nice … “I knew you’d want to know, and I needed to speak to someone about him. Someone who knew him.”
“Please come by whenever you feel like talking.” Vreva walked with the harbormaster to the door, and curtsied formally. “I know we’re both going to miss Abidi very much. Sometimes talking to someone who shares your pain helps ease it.”
“I will.” Lothera gave her another sad smile and bowed with the formal courtesy appropriate to their disparate social standings. She is nice, and maybe she can tell me what she hears from these navy prigs. “Thank you again, Mistress Korvis.”
“It’s been my pleasure.” Vreva hid her mirth. I’ll sign a contract with Asmodeus himself before I spy for you, Lothera.
Lothera walked out of the Officers’ Club with her back ramrod straight and her stride long, the stoic Chelish bureaucrat once again. Vreva watched her go and smiled to herself. Yes, she could do much worse than to cultivate that friendship.
“She seemed distraught,” Nonny said as he closed the door. “Hope it wasn’t anything serious.”
“She lost a friend.” Vreva patted her employee on his huge shoulder and smiled. “We both did.” One more truth. Abidi Ben Akhiri was truly dead, and Torius Vin could never dare to show his face, however disguised, in Ostenso again. I’m going to miss that crazy pirate. “The harbormaster is always welcome here, Nonny. Make her feel at home.”
